


Say It Again

by holdmeclosertinytaron



Category: British Actor RPF, Eddie the Eagle (2016), Kingsman (Movies), Robin Hood (2018), Rocketman (2019), Taron Egerton - Fandom, Welsh Actor RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:27:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24595270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holdmeclosertinytaron/pseuds/holdmeclosertinytaron
Kudos: 2





	Say It Again

“Y/N why on earth didn’t you call me sooner?” Taron exclaimed as he burst into the living room of your flat, his coat still on his back. 

You were sitting on the sofa with your leg on the coffee table and a bag of ice on your knee in hopes of reducing the swelling. “Because it wasn’t bad when I woke up,” you lied through gritted teeth, looking up at Taron trying not to smile. 

He raised his eyebrows at you, kneeling by your swollen, throbbing knee to remove the ice and take a closer look. You could feel how warm the skin of your knee was but that was nothing compared to the tips of Taron’s fingers as his hand rested on your calf. He shrugged his coat from his body and moved around your leg trying to figure out how bad it was. 

“You’re such a liar,” he smirked even though he was insanely worried. He’d been such a huge help since your surgery and was always messaging you asking how you were doing. In some ways, he’d become your personal doctor. “You can’t lie for shit, love. Thankfully it doesn’t look too swollen so I’ll go get you some more ice and you can tell me what the hell you did to cause it to flare.” 

You could only nod at him, the look of his biceps straining his white t-shirt far too much for your brain to handle. He placed the bag of melting ice back on your knee so that it wouldn’t get too much warmer while he dug through your freezer for more. 

“Have you had anything to eat and drink yet?” He asked as he walked towards the kitchen. 

“I had a cuppa tea when I woke up and a banana.” 

“Lord give me strength,” he uttered to himself. “I’m making you food and getting you a drink. And don’t you dare stand up right now, woman.” 

It was as though he could read your mind. You’d started to stand up, the ice slipping from your leg. But with his warning you flopped back onto the sofa and grabbed the remote from your side. You’d spent over an hour before he got there trying to find something good to watch on TV but absolutely nothing stuck out to you. 

In the end, you put 90 Day Fiancé on and grabbed the blanket from the back of the sofa to get yourself comfortable. The episode that was on was the same episode you’d seen multiple times before but there was nothing else on at all to watch. You gasped as Josh and Aika argued about babies and rolled your eyes at other parts. 

You could hear Taron the entire time, pottering around your kitchen making food, and it made you smile. It wasn’t often that you had someone in the house with you, cooking you food and making sure that you were drinking enough. It was nice. And it being Taron in your house making you food made it even nicer. 

He’d been thrust into your life a few years prior when you rented your house out to the cast and crew of Kingsman: The Golden Circle. They needed a place to take breaks and brainstorm and you needed a bit of money. Taron was the perfect gentleman from the get go, ushering everyone to take their shoes off when they entered, offering to help you make drinks and staying late to tidy up. 

What really kicked your friendship off was when he stayed to tidy and you were cooking dinner. You’d made far too much for one person so offered him a plate. Of course, to begin with he turned the offer down saying that he couldn’t possibly intrude. You insisted that he wouldn’t be and that you wouldn’t rest until he agreed. 

That evening you sat on your sofa eating chicken Alfredo with a glass of red wine—not caring that it wasn’t the correct pairing in the slightest. It was wine and it tasted good. Taron asked you about your life; if you had a job, if you were close to your family and if you had a significant other. Likewise, you asked Taron about his job, his family and his childhood. 

Things were easy and you stayed up late drinking more wine and laughing at how similar the two of you were. In the end, you offered Taron the spare bedroom because it was past midnight and he couldn’t drive after drinking the equivalent of a bottle and half. He thanked you for the offer but explained that he couldn’t. You understood and ordered him an Uber to take him to his hotel. It was your fault he couldn’t drive, after all. 

For the rest of the shoot he’d regularly have dinner with you and eventually took you up on your offer of the spare bedroom. He’d been awake for almost 18 hours and couldn’t face an hour long journey back to the hotel. You’d given him a towel to use and dug your spare toothbrush out for him to use and let him use your brother’s clothes to sleep in. 

For the first years of your friendship he travelled between the UK and the states to see you, always camping out in your spare bedroom. You cherished the time you got to see him and never took a second of it for granted. Having Taron in your life made you feel incredibly lucky and you took it seriously. 

He insisted that you let him stay with you when you had surgery so you had someone to help around the house. And he’d been a godsend, cooking and cleaning, changing your bandages, icing your knee, helping you to bed and into the bathroom so you could shower. You sometimes thought he worried more than your mum did which made you chuckle. 

But you were thankful for his help. Without him you’d probably have ducked your knee up again and you couldn’t cope with that. And having him around constantly wasn’t a bad thing. Life felt easy when he was around and you felt genuinely happy. Plus, you missed him when he was gone. 

Taron’s footsteps on the hardwood floor of your living room pulled you back to reality and away from the beautiful memories you were replaying. 

“What’s going on in that pretty head?” He smiled at you, handing you a plate with a ham sandwich, a bag of crisps, a chocolate biscuit and some strawberries. He put your water on the coffee table and switch the bags of ice over. 

“Shit that’s cold,” you hissed, squeezing your eyes shut. 

Taron plopped himself on the sofa next to you and reached over to steal half of your sandwich, shoving it into his mouth before you could stop him. His lips were lifted in a knowing smirk as his left eye shut in an over dramatic wink that had you gawking at him. 

“You’re a twat,” you scoffed but couldn’t stop the smile that made its way to your lips. Taron smiled at you before turning to the TV. “I know what you’re going to say so don’t bother. There’s naff all else on and I really don’t want to put Netflix on.” 

He swallowed his bite of food and grabbed the remote by your thigh. “Anything’s better than this shite. Also, those British words don’t fit with your American accent, love.” 

“Twat, arse, biscuit, tea, naff, bloody, scone, jam,” you laughed, knowing that it would make Taron smile. 

And it did, until he heard you say a certain word. “No, no, no. It’s scone, not scone.” 

“That’s what I said…scone.” 

Taron shook his head, trying to ignore what you said and failing to fight an amused grin. “No. You’re saying scone like ‘gone’. It’s scone like ’own’.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed at him in confusion. “You Brits and your weird ass words. It’s the same bloody thing.” 

You could see Taron’s eyes widen from where he sat, the sandwich he’d stolen from you cast to the side on his knee as he blinked at you slowly. “The same bloody thing?” He asked, scratching his head and pulling his lips into his mouth. “They aren’t the same bloody thing. And next you’re going to be saying that it’s cream before jam!” 

“Yeah now you’ve lost me completely,” you laughed, finally taking a bite of your sandwich. “

******

You had no idea at what point you’d dropped off to sleep but when you woke up, your legs were resting over Taron’s thighs and your plate of food was on the coffee table. The blanket that was once being used as a comfort and pillow was draped over your body and you couldn’t be sure if it’d been you or Taron who did it. Either way, you were thankful. 

There was a new pack of ice on your knee and you had no idea how it didn’t wake you up because it seemed to be colder than the others. But maybe that was because your body was warmer than it had been the rest of the day. Taron smiled down at you when you stretched and groaned, your neck hurting from the awkward position you’d had it in. 

“How long have I been asleep?” You croaked, letting your eyes fall closed again. 

“Only about half an hour. You couldn’t even finish your food before you were dozing. So I put it on the coffee table and made you lay down,” he responded gently, knowing how sensitive your ears would be after waking up. “Feeling better after a sleep?” 

You shook your head, your eyes fighting to open with the light streaming through the curtains. The setting sun, despite being pretty as it hinted everything with beautiful golden tones, was blinding and the last thing you wanted to see. 

“Not really. Could sleep for so much longer, if I’m being honest.” 

“Go back to sleep then,” Taron insisted, his mouth opening in a long yawn that made his eyes water. 

Your heart sank at the sight. “I think you need a nap more than me,” you giggled. “Maybe you could join me? Wouldn’t be the first time we’ve had a nap together.” 

Taron smiled down at you, nodding his head in a way to tell you to shift up so that he could fit behind you as he turned the TV off. You did as he silently asked, bracing yourself to feel his body against yours in a way that you often craved. He was always warm. And he was also the most cuddly person you knew. 

It took a nanosecond for his right arm to drape over your side to pull you into his body, his left arm under his head to keep him from eating your hair. You could feel his warm breath against the back of your neck each time he exhaled, the feeling so relaxing that you could feel yourself drifting off already. But there was something stopping you from falling to sleep completely. 

He was close enough to you–his front pressed flat against your back–that he would be able to feel the insane beating of your heart with how nervous you were around him. Not to mention the fact that his hand lifted with each of your shaky breathes. You hoped that he wouldn’t question it but then at the same time you hoped that he would. Not that you would know how to respond should he ask you. 

To try and distract yourself from your all consuming thoughts, you pulled the blanket from between your bodies to wrap around him too, wanting to create a cocoon for the two of you. He hummed in appreciation, the comfort of having you in his arms helping him fall asleep too. 

“Tell me,” he whispered into the silent room. “Why didn’t you call me sooner?” 

You took a deep, ragged breath, your eyes squeezed shut. “Because I didn’t want to drag you away from anything you were doing. I feel like I take advantage all of the time and it’s not fair.” 

“Y/N, when will you learn that I do it because I care? I do it because I don’t ever want to see you struggle.” 

“Yeah but-” 

“No buts,” he insisted, turning you over gently so as to not hurt your knee too much. “I do it because I care and because I love you.” 

He stopped talking then, his eyes getting wide and his lips clamping shut. You could feel his heart pounding against his ribs as he looked at you with a look you’d never seen before. It took all of your might not to get up out of his grasp to pace the living room, not knowing what to say to him for the better. 

“Wh-huh?” You asked in disbelief.

Taron continued to look at you and took a deep breath at the same time as wetting his lips. He let his eyes fall closed for a second as he tried to compose himself, something you’d never seen him do before but something that made your heart soar. You’d seen him nervous before a shoot before, but never to this degree. 

“I do it because I care,” he repeated, not letting his eyes leave yours. 

“Annnd…” you added, needing him to repeat what he’d said just so that you could be sure you’d heard correctly. 

You’d had dreams where he’d professed his love for you before but you were sure this wasn’t a dream. This felt far, far too real to be a dream. 

“And…I love you,” he spoke deeply, his eyes glazing over as he searched yours for any sign of reaction. “I know this is out of the blue and I’ve not so much as tried to tell you before but I’m telling you now. I’ve been stupid to wait so long and-” 

His words were cut off when your lips ghosted over his softly, your breaths mixing at your cupid’s bow. He sighed into you, his hand trailing up your body until he could cup your cheek softly to keep you in place, finally pressing his lips to yours in a proper kiss. A kiss that you’d both been waiting years for and a kiss that threw all of your feelings into the air. 

His hand was soft against your cheek, his skin warm and welcoming as he slowly pulled away, your eyes still closed but your foreheads resting together. He seemed to hesitate when he’d pulled away, almost as if his lips wanted nothing more than to be pressed to yours again. So, you took initiative, leaning forward enough to kiss him again, only this time harder and with more need. 

If you couldn’t form a sentence to tell him how you felt, you would show him how you felt. And when he parted your lips so that he could press his tongue against yours, you moaned into him, letting him hook your leg over his hip before he cupped your face again. You were baffled as to how you hadn’t managed to clash teeth and the thought alone made you smile into the kiss, which consequently had your teeth knocking slightly. 

“Ouch,” Taron chuckled as he pulled away from you, looking deep into your eyes as though he was analysing your soul. “That was…unexpected.” 

“Say it again,” you begged breathlessly, wanting to hear him mumble those three words again and again. 

“I love you,” he smiled, chuckling when you leaned forward to kiss him again. 

“Again.” 

“I love you.” 

“Again.” 

“How many more times do I have to say it?” He laughed, moving his left arm so he could cup your face completely. “How many times do I have to say I love you before I get to hear it back?” 

“Until it stops sounding so goddamn good. So basically, forever,” you laughed, letting him mould our lips together for what felt like the millionth time already. It felt so good to kiss him. So, so good. “I love you too,” you managed to mumble against his lips, feeling him smile before he rolled to hover ever so slightly over you. 

You hummed into his touch, letting your arms wrap around his neck as you pulled away from him with a knowing smirk. 

“Say it again.”


End file.
